Secrets
by ErynLasgalen26
Summary: Secrets, games and love on one very special Summer Solstice Festival in Mirkwood. Rating up due to last chapter's contents. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of Middle-earth, though I do thank J.R.R. Tolkien for creating this wonderful world. The characters and places are used for non-profit purposes only, so please don't sue me.

**Author's Notes:** I am not a Tolkien-expert nor do I claim to be one. Any errors that might occur in canon, language etc. are entirely my fault. Please feel free to point them out in a friendly manner, constructive criticism is welcome.

**Additional A/N:** Many of my stories and certainly my way of describing the characters' relationships are inspired by Cassia and Siobhan's wonderful "Mellon Chronicles".  
I too work with the idea that both of Aragorn's parents died when he was young and he was therefore raised in the House of Elrond like a son and that Elladan and Elrohir are his older brothers by all but blood.  
J.R.R. Tolkien did say that Aragorn "was raised in the House of Elrond", all else is just artistic license and I ask you to please not take offence in it.

Aragorn is a man of many names and I believe I have used them all. ;)  
He is Estel to his family and close friends, Aragorn to those who knew him during the War of the Ring and to the Dúnedain Rangers and Elessar to the people of his Kingdom.

I have tried my best to get the Elvish words and phrases right, but if you do find an error, please let me know.  
Words/phrases that are not translated directly in the text can be found at the end.

**Special A/N:** Above and beyond all, I would like to thank my best friend Phil for her inspiration and patience and for reading and re-reading all my drafts over and over again. Hannon le, muinthel-nîn!

* * *

**  
CHAPTER 1**

Soft golden light filtered through the dense canopy of leaves, speckling the woodland floor of the great elven kingdom of Mirkwood.  
Insects hummed in the glades and birds twittered in the trees, their songs floating musically on the balmy summer breeze.

Many of the elves of Mirkwood enjoyed the peace and quiet before the Summer Solstice, which would bring with it an endless week of celebrating and merrymaking, and spent their time strolling along the woodland paths or lazing in the sun in the many glades near the banks of the Forest River.  
Forgotten were the ever present threats that usually dampened the moods, the shadow that had been steadily creeping over the south of the Wood seemed to have receded a little and there had been no attacks of either wargs nor spiders in over a fortnight.  
All was well in Mirkwood on this mellow summer's day.

Sitting beneath the shady boughs of an ancient beech tree were four elves and a young human and all were engrossed in an animated discussion as to who the best archer in the upcoming tournament would be.

"Have none of you considered that Prince Legolas will be partaking also?" A voice from beyond their circle queried. "I daresay there should be no question as to who will win." Trelan, Second in Command of the Royal Guard of Mirkwood and close friend to the Prince dropped down next to his liege, skilfully ignoring the withering glare that said Prince cast him.

"Indeed." The human laughed, "How could we forget!" He nudged the elf prince playfully. Legolas had long since befriended the adopted son of Elrond, the Lord of Imladris, and called the human - who was known as Estel among his close friends and family – a brother.  
Estel was of course only the name Lord Elrond had given him as a child, for his right name was Aragorn, Son of Arathorn and he was the Heir to the throne of Gondor. But only a chosen few knew this fact, for it was yet to remain a secret and therefore he went by many names – most of them given by people he loved.

Legolas brushed a strand of long, golden hair out of his face and smiled – albeit somewhat tartly. "I shall try my best."

A few feet away a group of elegantly dressed elves from Lothlórien passed, eying the friends curiously and whispering among themselves quite unduly.  
The group sitting beneath the beech tree had been a source for gossip most of the day, for it was of course widely known that the handsome blond elf was the son of King Thranduil of Mirkwood and that the identical elves that accompanied him most of the time were Elladan and Elrohir, Sons of Elrond.  
The identity of the human and the elf maiden that were also part of the circle of friends were unfamiliar to most and speculations drifted to and fro on the balmy breeze like pollen.

"Listen to them." Elenath, the Noldorin elf maiden scowled at the passers by. "They do naught but gossip day in, day out. It makes one wonder what other interests they might possess."

"For shame, Elenath!" Elladan grinned, not meaning his words as a reprimand. "Gossip is considered a high art of communication in some circles. Or so I'm told." His grey eyes twinkled with mirth.

The group erupted with laughter, Elrohir elbowing his twin none to gently, earning himself a dark scowl.

Yes, life was good these days in Middle-earth. And it was about to get even better.

* * *

Midsummer's Day dawned in a spectacular array of colours. Soft lavenders and mauves tinged the early morning skies as did bold red's and oranges and above all the first golden rays of the sun.

By mid-morning the competitions were well underway and an excited buzz filled the air.

Legolas had just taken up his position among the archers, ready to show off his skills that were quite formidable. Among his people the Prince was known for his amazing talent.

Arrows whizzed through the air, hitting their marks more or less true and evoking cheers from the enthusiastic crowd.

It was an artistic event, not meant to display power but cunning and Legolas excelled, much to the joy of King Thranduil who sat upon a raised dais in the shade of the trees, his face aglow with pride.

Many of the elf maidens from the realms beyond Mirkwood's borders had gathered to watch the Prince display his skills and applauded eagerly with every shot.

Elenath glanced at a them from where she stood near Elrohir, her cobalt-blue eyes stormy as the sea.

Elrohir smirked as he noticed her expression. "Our friends from Mithlond seem to be quite impressed by the Prince's talent."

Elenath snorted. "Indeed. They seem ready to swoon and faint at any moment now."

Her voice was sharp as a sword's blade.

The elf twin laughed. They had grown up together and were as close as brother and sister, therefore he knew most of Elenath's moods well yet this open hostility towards others was new to him.

"You would not happen to be jealous, would you now, Tinu?" Tinu. Little Star. Elladan and Elrohir had bestowed that nickname upon her when they were but elflings and still used it frequently.

"Jealous!" Elenath stared at him in disbelief. "Nay! Why would you think such a thing? I care not by whom the Prince is ogled or whom he chooses to woo."

Elrohir shrugged. "Perhaps I gauged it from your reaction. Forgive me, I must have been mistaken."

"You most certainly erred. Excuse me now, I see Estel hailing me." With a haughty toss of her head that sent her long, black hair flying over her shoulder she strode off and soon disappeared in the crowd.

"And what, pray tell, has you grinning like a fool?" Elladan asked as he walked up to his brother a few moments later.

Elrohir looked at his twin from the corner of his eyes. "Naught, muindor-nîn, that you will not soon be able to witness yourself." His gaze flickered to the field where the next tournament would be held. "Look! The swordsmen are up next!"

Just as the archery tournament there would be three rounds of sword fighting, set on three consecutive days to heighten the suspense.

"Excellent." Elladan listened while the names of the participants were being announced. Since the fighters would all be wearing full armour to protect them from the potentially lethal blows of the razor-sharp blades it was vital to know who would be on the field next.

Elladan had won the tournament every time in the last five years and would therefore only fight in the final round, which left him with enough time to observe his potential opponents.

"Have you ever heard of Lord Thurin?" Elladan asked Elrohir, looking remarkably like their father as he turned a questioning glance at his brother, one eyebrow raised.

The younger twin shook his head. "He's obviously new to the tourney and the poor lad will be encountering Lord Tarias in his first match." Honest sympathy laced his tone.

Lord Tarias was known for being nigh invincible and not very gentle when dealing out blows, something Elladan had experienced on a number of occasions.

The twins watched the contestants march onto the field.

Tarias was surpassingly tall and broad-shouldered, he had fought many battles in the long years of his life and had stood beside Gil-Galad and Elendil in the Battle of the Dagorlad.

Elladan honoured him as quite a formidable opponent.

As they watched Thurin enter the glade a murmur ran through the crowd.  
He was quite a bit smaller than Tarias, both in height and weight, yet he walked confidently and held his helmeted head high, causing the sun to glint off the polished steel.

Unlike most others he wore no coat of arms either on his breast-plate nor on his shield, which was black as obsidian.

The opponents bowed before the King and each other and then patiently awaited the fanfare of trumpets that would mark the beginning of the match.

In the beginning their blows fell slowly, measured, each testing the other's reactions, but then the movements accelerated and soon the fight turned into a graceful yet lethal dance – beautiful to behold yet difficult to maintain.

Thurin proved to be an outstanding fighter who quickly and effectively landed his points, which were achieved by touching the opponent without wounding him.

His slighter build enabled him to slip through Tarias' defences and disable him well within the fifteen minutes that a fight was allowed to last.

The crowed cheered and even Thranduil and Legolas – who had taken his seat beside his father – stood and applauded.

Thurin bowed with a flourish, first before the Royal Family then before the spectators and finally made his way back to his tent, in which the fighters changed in and out of their armour.

"That is the first time I have witnessed Lord Tarias being defeated so rapidly." Elladan said in awe as he followed Elrohir through the milling elves towards the Palace.

It was already time for the noonday meal and some rest before the great celebration in honour of the Solstice that evening.

The dining-hall was nice and cool after spending much of the morning in the bright sunlight and Elrohir dropped into his chair near the head of the table.

As it was an informal meal there was no need to wait for the King, one could come and eat whenever it pleased.

Lord Elrond had already been waiting for his sons and smiled at both of them.

"Did you see the swordfight, ada?" Elladan inquired excitedly. "Wasn't it spectacular?"

Elrond nodded. "It was indeed and should Lord Thurin master the next round just as expertly you will be fighting against a most formidable opponent."

They all looked up as Elenath and Estel stepped up to their table, both looking slightly disheveled.

"Suilad, vede, you were talking about the day's events?" Elenath asked as she took a seat opposite Elrond, looking rather flushed.

"We were talking about the swordfight." Elladan answered in his father's stead which earned him a slightly perplexed look from the elf lord. "Where were you anyway?"

"We found a spot in the shade." Elenath looked to Estel who nodded while piling food on his plate from one of the platters that stood in the center of the table. "Did my father arrive yet?"

"Nay." Elrond shook his head sympathetically. "But I am sure he will do all he can to arrive in time for the festivities tonight."

Elenath swallowed her disappointment with a sip of wine and smiled. "Of course he will. I have yet to witness him missing a decent feast." Though her tone was light Elrond caught the hint of sadness that laced through it.

"So, did you see the swordfight?" Elladan queried around a mouthful of smoked fish.

"Of course we did, you nift. " Estel answered. "Why else would we wait around the glade for hours on end?" The Dúnadan shook his head in an expression of mock bewilderment, earning a glare from both Elrond and Elladan and causing Elrohir to snigger softly.

"And there I thought you had perhaps come to see me fight also." Legolas startled his friends as he suddenly appeared at their table, grinning.

Estel sputtered. "Of course I wanted to see you fight, too, but I know how you fight." Which was true, for the Prince and the Dúnadan had often fought side by side in the long years of their friendship.

Laughing good-naturedly Legolas slid into a chair next to his friend. "Sîdh, mellon-nîn, actually I just came to find Lord Thurin. My father would like to meet him personally." The Prince looked around the hall. "Unfortunately nobody seems to know where he is."

"Nobody seems to know what he looks like either." Raniean, Captain of the Royal Guard, said as he approached the table with Trelan trailing him. "Lord Thurin seems to be quite a mystery."

Trelan nodded vigorously. "Aye, and I heard that he never lost a tourney he attended though." The small elf reached for the platter with the roasted chicken and started heaping his plate. "Lord Pedrim of Lothlórien heard that Thurin is rumored to be quite a ladies man too."

"A ladies man!" Elenath stared at Trelan wide-eyed.

Trelan blushed. "Forgive me, Lady Elenath, I did not mean to speak thus before an elf maiden."

Although she waved it off Trelan seemed loath to continue talking and instead opted to devote his entire attention to the food on his plate.

"No matter what other qualities he may possess, I fear Elladan may be in for quite a fight." Elrond said as he stood to leave.

When Elrond had left Elrohir looked at his twin, mirth glittering in his grey eyes. "I agree with ada, El, and I think perhaps you should rest some the next two days so you might stand the faintest chance of walking off the field in one piece when Lord Thurin finishes with you."

Elenath grinned, Estel looked at Elrohir as though he had just uttered a death-wish and Legolas, Raniean and Trelan laughed outright at the twins bold words.

Elladan grabbed his brother by the front of his tunic, putting Elrohir's face within a hairsbreadth of his own.

His grey eyes snapped with icy fire and for a heartbeat the younger twin was afraid he had just overstepped the limit.

"I would not talk so, brother, unless you wish to take my place instead? I reckon Lord Thurin would not know how to tell the difference between us." Elladan hissed menacingly in his brother's face, only letting go of his twin when Legolas pried them both apart.

"Peace now!" The Prince demanded, authority ringing in his voice as none of his friends had ever heard before and turning many heads in the hall. "Elrohir's words were spoken in jest. I advise you not to take everything he says too seriously, Elladan." Legolas shook his head. "Perhaps it is best we all took some rest lest somebody gets hurt."

Just as he turned to walk away he saw that Estel was about to reply something, but the look in his eyes bode ill so Legolas merely grabbed the Ranger by the elbow and half dragged him out of the dining-hall with him.

Elenath stared after the elf prince. Never before had she seen him act as he just had and some part of her was more that just impressed. She was overwhelmed.

* * *

The great hall of King Thranduil's palace was awash with lights and music.

Elven lords and ladies of all realms decked out in their finest attire strolled about the halls and gardens, some dancing, some singing and all of them making merry.

Elenath entered the hall beside Lord Elrond, wishing all the while to be elsewhere.

She had never much liked such formal festivities – very much to her father's chagrin – and wearing opulent garments as were required on such evenings only made her fidget.

For this occasion she had chosen a dark burgundy-colored gown with long, fluted sleeves that dropped down the length of her skirt. Golden flowers and stars were embroidered into the heavy fabric around the low cut neck line, waist and down the front and back center of the flowing skirt.

Her long black hair had been elaborately braided and decorated with pearl-studded pins that glowed mystically in the bright lights of the chandeliers.

After they had been properly announced Elrond released Elenath, who wanted only to find her friends.

She had seen the looks some of the younger elven males cast her way and she did not like this kind of scrutiny at all.

When she finally spotted the twins at the far end of the hall near one of the large balconies her mouth dropped open in surprise.

Next to his brothers stood Estel, yet it was his attire that shocked her.

He had laid off his worn Ranger's clothes and was now clad in black velvet leggings with a dark-red stripe running down the side and disappearing into his knee-high leather boots that had been polished to a sheen.

The Dúnadan also wore a dark red-under tunic and a black-over tunic that were cut a little more snugly than the loose clothing he usually wore.

Silver embroidery on the over tunic shimmered faintly with every move he made.

Probably the most shocking change was his usually unruly black hair that had been pulled back partially and secured with a silver clasp, making him look every inch the King he would likely be someday.

Elenath wondered briefly how anybody could miss noticing that this young human was of royal descent. Surely the secret could no longer be upheld after tonight!

"Tinu!" Elladan spotted her first, his beautiful face aglow with a smile that was known to make some maidens swoon with desire.

She waved and quickly pushed her way across the hall, careful not to step on any gowns or feet while being pushed and jostled herself.

"Finally," she sighed, gratefully accepting a glass of wine from Estel who blushed slightly under her approving stare.

"Ne'er before have I seen so many elves in one place. One might be led to believe that all the realms have emptied and their inhabitants gathered here." Shaking her head disbelievingly she was completely oblivious to the many appreciative looks she garnered.

At the far end of the hall King Thranduil stood at the foot of the stone steps that led up to his throne and watched as Legolas joined his friends.

He was proud of his son, the Prince would someday make a most worthy king to his people. Yet another matter weighed heavily on the King's mind.

Legolas had long since reached an age when young elves started looking for mates, but the Prince showed no interest whatsoever in taking a wife and starting a family.

Thranduil guessed he knew why his son was so reluctant, unfortunately the facts remained: Legolas was a Prince and would someday soon need a spouse to give him heirs.

None of the elf maidens present seemed very suitable in Thranduil's eyes, most were much younger than Legolas and showed only interest in his son's good looks and his title, but not in the heart that been hurt far too much in his young life.

In the past the King had hoped that Legolas would someday wed Elrond's daughter Arwen, but that was before he had learned of Estel's deep love for her. Thranduil would not break the young human's heart and destroy his friendship with Legolas if there was but an inkling of a chance that some other suitable maiden might yet exist.

His gaze fell on Elenath. She looked striking in the finery she wore that evening but the King was aware that she held no love for the rules of court or society.

She might have been of noble birth but he knew from many an account that she was not destined to be locked in a cage. Even if it was a golden one.

"Has she disgraced her house yet?" A deep, almost purring voice asked sarcastically from beside the King, startling him out of his glum thoughts.

Thranduil shook his head, suppressing a smile and accepting the goblet filled with chilled golden wine that his companion offered him. "Nay, although I had rather expected to encounter quite a hellion after the tales you told me."

The blond elf standing next to the King laughed, drawing the attention of several females to himself without even noticing.

It was true that she was quite a wild child and regrettably had not inherited her father's social skills, yet a proud smile illuminated his handsome face as Glorfindel watched Elenath jest with an elven warrior from Mirkwood.

"Worry not, my friend. Your daughter has not disgraced your name or hers and though she does not aim to flatter she is firmly standing her ground. She has more of you in her than you might believe." Thranduil smiled, eyeing Legolas sceptically. The Prince was surrounded by twittering elf maidens, all of whom were desperately trying to direct his attention to themselves only.

Thranduil could not fault them, for Legolas was truly a handsome sight to behold.

Clad not in the silver ceremonial-silks of the elves but instead opting for the colours of his woodland home, he wore dark brown formal leggings and a tunic made of emerald green velvet that was embroidered with golden leaves on the stand-up collar and around the hem and cuffs.

His golden-blond hair was braided just slightly more intricately than he usually wore it and contrasted beautifully with the rich colours of his clothing.

"It seems your son is in need of some rescuing." Glorfindel's mirthful blue gaze had followed that of the King and now lingered on the young Prince, flashing sympathy.

"Would that one of those lasses had more brains in her sweet little head than they are displaying at the moment. Maybe then Legolas would finally find a woman who would be fit to share his life." A deep sigh escaped the King's lips as he drank a sip of wine.

Glorfindel nodded. "Not much was left of my house when I returned to Arda, but we managed to keep it alive. If Elenath does not change her ways and open her heart to the possibility of taking a husband, I fear the House of the Golden Flower shall finally wilt and die." He sighed wistfully.

But it was not only the fate of his house that weighed on his mind and rested on Elenath's slender shoulders…

"A sad lot we are." The King remarked dryly, evoking a laugh from the golden-haired Lord.

"Indeed." Lord Elrond smiled, hearing the King's last words as he strode towards them. "It is nice to see you have finally arrived, mellon-nîn." His gaze lighted on Glorfindel. "Your daughter has been most displeased by your tardiness."

"Displeased?" An elegant eyebrow winged upward as his gaze once again landed on Elenath. "If that is so, then I had better make it up to her immediately." He turned to the elves standing beside him. "If you would excuse me, your Highness, Peredhel." He bowed to each of them.

Sauntering over to where his daughter was engaged in a deep conversation with the young elf warrior, Glorfindel's beauty and the catlike grace with which he moved turned many an elleth's head.

"May I?" He interrupted the conversation and drew Elenath into his arms and onto the dance floor ere she could protest.

"Ada?" Confusion at his sudden appearance was written all over her face. "When did you arrive?" She tried to pry his fingers from where he held her around her waist, but to no avail.

Glorfindel smiled innocently, knowing how much Elenath despised dancing, especially with him, for in his arms she was bound to be carefully observed. "Oh, barely an hour ago, meleth-nîn. I trust you were in good hands while I was gone?"

"Aye, I was." Pleading blue eyes turned to face him and it struck him how very much she resembled her mother. "Please ada, I do not wish to dance. Let me go."

He planted a gentle kiss on her forehead and whirled her in a tight circle, making her skirts fly. "Ai, Tinu, I shall never understand why you do not like to fly across a dance floor, especially to such beautiful music."

"People are watching." She growled through her teeth and sighed in relief as he led her out onto one of the balconies and finally let go of her.

"You look stunning tonight." He took her hand and made her turn from side to side. "Aye, you look just like your mother."

"I do!" Elenath asked incredulously, beaming until she saw the pain in his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, ada." She reached up and brushed the lines of worry from his face.

Elenath's mother had been murdered by orcs many centuries ago when Elenath had been little more than a wee babe. She knew the loss had nearly broken her father's heart.

"Never be." Glorfindel caught her small, elegant hand in his larger one and smiled down at his only child. "Your mother's passing was not your doing and I am happy that she is now reunited with those she loved so dearly." Tenderly as only a father could he tucked a strand of silky black hair that had come lose from her braids behind her ear.

"I'm sorry that I do not enjoy such events in ways as you do though." She sighed wistfully, "I just feel terribly awkward when I'm around so many people."

Glorfindel smiled and led her down into the gardens. "You need not feel awkward, meleth-nîn. I know that I have probably raised you too liberally for your status, but you have much natural grace that you need only acknowledge a bit more. You have done me proud Elenath, always."

Elenath stared at her father wide-eyed.

She had expected much, reprimands, recommendations how to improve herself, perhaps even a request to alter her behaviour altogether but never in her life had she reckoned with so much approval.

"Hannon-le, ada. You can scarce imagine how much those words mean to me."

Pulling his daughter into a tight embrace Glorfindel chuckled. "You needn't be so shocked, my little star. And instead of weeping onto my tunic, pray tell what you were complaining to Elrond about?" The smile in his voice was evident.

Stepping back, Elenath wiped away the few tears that had fallen and grinned. "I did not complain, I merely annotated."

The elf lord nodded. "Ah, and what then did you annotate?"

Pulling up to her full height - which was still nigh a foot shorter than Glorfindel - and lifting her chin defiantly she said: "I merely stated that it was most displeasing, for you to remain in Imladris and complete whatever business was handed to you though I doubt that it could not have easily waited until after the Solstice Festival."

"Ai, Tinu." Glorfindel sighed wearily, shaking his head. "I know how much it would have meant to you had I joined you immediately, but I wish for you to understand, iell-nîn, that there are many things in this world that you do not yet comprehend. Had it not been a matter of vital importance I would not have tarried."

Elenath felt a twinge of shame deep within her heart. "I am sorry, ada, I know you only meant to ease the burden placed on Lord Elrond's shoulders. Forgive me my selfish words."

"There is naught to forgive." A smile illuminated his beautiful, ageless face. "Now come, tonight is an evening for merrymaking." He turned to leave but stopped when she made no move to follow.

"You are not coming?"

"In a few moments." She glanced at the stars, feeling their serenity fill her. "I shall be along shortly."

Glorfindel nodded at walked away, leaving her to the blissful quiet of the King's gardens.

* * *

It had taken some time and energy but Legolas had finally managed to free himself from the gaggle of elf maidens who had surrounded him for most of the evening.

Ruing the fact that he was royalty – else he could have simply ducked out and disappeared – he did just that when the opportunity presented itself.

Taking a few shortcuts through hidden passages the Prince stepped into the gardens, far away from the milling crowds and sighed, seeking out Eärendil and envying the Mariner for the peace and solitude he must certainly have on his heavenly voyage.

He stood staring at the star-covered black of the night sky, inhaling the fragrances of night blooms that wafted on the balmy air and enjoying the quiet when a flicker of movement to his right caught his attention.

"Elenath?" The Prince was slightly surprised to find her sitting all alone on the marble ledge of the fountain just a few feet away.

She stiffened when she heard him approaching, turning to face him only when he took a seat next to her.

Though she smiled he could see that faint silver tear tracks marred the pale beauty of her cheeks.

"Has something happened? Are you not well?" He inquired anxiously, longing to wipe away the moisture on her skin.

"Nay, all is well." The smile she graced him with this time was a little more reassuring. "You need not worry on my account."

Legolas eyed her carefully. They had known each other for so long but somehow he suddenly had the feeling of never really having seen her before.

It was difficult not to worry on her account when she looked as fragile as niphredil and yet he longed to taste her lush lips, see if they were anywhere near as sweet as he imagined and ere he knew what he was doing, he found himself leaning towards her, cupping her soft cheek in his hand and slowly, gently drawing her towards him.

Their lips brushed ever so gently, barely a whisper of skin against skin but Elenath felt a warm tingling where he had touched her.

Again his lips brushed hers and this time she yielded to his gentle teasing and slightly opened her mouth.

As his tongue slid into her mouth she shifted closer to him, wanting to feel the warmth radiating off his body. He tasted of wine and spices, a combination that made her dizzy with longing.

Legolas' pulled her closer, feeling the softness of her breasts press against him through the fabric of their clothes, he felt her hands tangling in his hair and her kiss deepening with a desperation so tangible it made him want to weep.

When he finally pulled back she made a protesting sound that set his blood to boiling, but he knew that if they continued at this pace they would certainly end up on the floor, devoid of their clothes within minutes.

He opened his eyes to gauge her reaction and felt his heart leap with joy at the look of utter longing and tenderness in her eyes.

"Ai, Tinu-nîn." Legolas whispered reverently, brushing the pad of his thumb over her swollen lips and smiled as her body shuddered ever so slightly.

"That was most amazing, ernil-nîn." She whispered slightly breathless.

"And most certainly something your father would be very interested to hear." An amused voice spoke up from the darkness beyond as Raniean stepped into the light flooding down from the palace.

Elenath and Legolas jumped apart at the first sound of Raniean's voice and now stood staring at the tall, blond Captain of the Royal Guard, both looking rather guilty.

"Ran!" Legolas was the first to regain his composure. "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you," came the prompt answer. "Or have you forgotten that tonight is an official feast and that I am – whether you like it or not – your bodyguard?"

Legolas glared at Raniean for a few moments but finally relented. He could not fault the other elf for doing his duty.

"There will be no word of this to either Lord Glorfindel or my father." His crystal-blue gaze pierced that of the warrior, who nodded his consent after staring at his liege for a few seconds.

"Elenath, I..." The Prince's voice faltered as he turned to face her and found that Elenath was gone.

TBC...

* * *

Elvish translations:

Suilad – greetings

Vede – uncle

Sîdh – peace

Mellon-nîn – my friend

Adar/ada – father/dad

Elleth / ellith – elf maiden(s)

Peredhel – half elven

Meleth-nîn – my love

Hannon-le – thank you

Iell-nîn – my daughter

Ernil-nîn – my prince


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER 2 **

Two days after the Solstice Festival life in Mirkwood was yet far from normal.

The grand ball was still discussed vividly and all elves agreed that it had been many a century since they had last attended such a magnificent event.

Of course Lord Thurin's absence from the feast still mystified all, but then again he had not been seen until the competition on the next day, where he had beaten Amil-Garil, the King's personal bodyguard, who had an excellent reputation as a swordsman.

When the final day of the tournaments arrived, every single elf in the Kingdom of Mirkwood was most eager to talk to Lord Thurin personally, but he remained firmly in hiding.

Much to Elladan's chagrin…

"Where is he? Can you not find him?" The older twin asked Elrohir, who was helping his brother ready himself for the final fight.

"As I have already stated, brother, I cannot find Lord Thurin. But you will meet him soon enough as it is." Elrohir smirked and fastened Elladan's cloak around his shoulders.

Elladan grunted. "That elf is enough to drive the most patient to insanity."

"Speaking of insanity" Elrohir grinned"you are already on the verge of it, it seems. You are obsessed. Besides" the younger twin continued ere his brother could interrupt"I believe our friend Legolas might be somewhat _displeased_ with you for missing his final contest."

Elladan swung around to stare at his brother. "Ai, Valar! I completely forgot. How did he finish"

"He won." A stern voice spoke up from the entrance, prompting both twins to turn in surprise.

None other than the Prince of Mirkwood himself strode into the tent, still clutching the golden arrow that he had been rewarded by the King only minutes ago.

Legolas' usually friendly face was drawn and he looked truly annoyed.

"I'm so sorry I missed..." Elladan stepped forward to apologize but was cut short by a dismissive gesture from the Prince.

"You need not worry, mellon-nîn. I am searching for Elenath, have you seen her" Legolas looked from one twin to the other, his clear eyes blazing with subdued anger.

The twins looked at one another and shrugged.

"Nay, I have not seen her for some time, yet I believe she will be among the spectators when Elladan and Lord Thurin start their contest."

The elder twin retrieved his helmet. "It seems she is avoiding you, tough I ask myself why."

"She has no reason to avoid me" the Prince snapped. "You may tell her that when you see her."

"We will," Elrohir promised, trying to calm their friend. "Now come, the competition is about to begin."

* * *

"Harder Estel!"

"I cannot!"

"Oh but you can. I know you can do it!"

"Elenath…" Estel dropped to the ground panting. "Are you sure you really want to do this?"

Glaring at the Ranger the elf crossed her arms. "Do you really think that I would turn away now?"

"Fine!" The human jumped to his feet. "But if we continue now there will be no way back. Are you certain that this is what you want?"

A brilliant smile lit up her face as Estel stepped closer. "Aye, it is most definitely my heart's wish."

"Very well." The Dúnadan consented, smiling. "Then let us continue where we left off."

* * *

The sun had already begun it's slow descent in the west as the two combatants entered the clearing and walked up to the King's dais, bowing respectfully.

Elladan had his helmet tucked under his right arm but Lord Thurin was yet again fully clad, which caused the Noldorin elf to glare at him out of the corner of his eyes.

Thurin seemed like an elf content with himself, his every demeanour spoke of a man who got what he wanted whenever he wanted it.

As the King gave the signal, both elves strode towards the centre of the clearing amidst the cheering of the crowds that had gathered beyond the roped-off fighting area.

"Galu mae." Elladan nodded at Lord Thurin and pulled on his own helmet.

Within moments both elves were caught up in a beautiful dance of death.

Armour flashed in the sunlight, swords sang through the air and rang when they impacted, sending sparks flying and bodies twisted and twirled almost too fast for the human eye to behold.

Thurin surprised Elladan, for the mysterious lord seemed to anticipate his every move, parrying and thrusting as though he knew the exactly how the Noldorin elf would react.

Their skills were well matched and neither was easily able to land points.

The final fight could continue on indefinitely, for there was no time limit set. It would only end when one of the contestants managed to gain and advantage of two points.

Legolas sat next to King Thranduil and watched with anticipation as the minutes passed by and neither of the elves in the clearing showed any sign of besting the other.

"If one of them does not land a point soon I am afraid we shall sit here until tomorrow," the Prince joked.

"Ai, Valar, I hope not!" Thranduil chuckled, looking fondly at his son and silently thanked Ilúvatar that they were able to share this moment.

His only son had been perilously close to death on too many occasions. Having him sitting beside him now was a very gratifying feeling.

"I am very proud of you, Legolas. You have not only proven your skill as the best archer in all the realms, but also as an elf who knows where his responsibilities lie. You shall make a fine king when my days in Middle-earth are over."

Legolas stared at his father, amazed and slightly shocked to hear such heartfelt words.

Their relationship was and always had been somewhat difficult and although the Prince loved his father with all his heart and knew that Thranduil felt the same for his son, they were both headstrong and tended to be quite stubborn, which made communicating somewhat of a problem at times.

As the surprise wore off Legolas smiled at his father, his clear blue eyes flashing brilliantly in the setting sun.

"Hannon-le, ada. Your words honour me, though I pray to Eru that your days here may continue for some time yet."

The clashing of steel against steel redirected their attention back to the elves below.

Elladan seemed to have gained the upper hand for Thurin was starting to show first signs of wearying.

When the latter lunged at the Noldorin, Elladan swung his curved blade in a low arch and caught Thurin across the breastplate of his armour, causing him to stumble backwards and drop to his knees a few breathless seconds later.

All was still in the glade as Thurin remained hunched over, one hand splayed across the dent in his armour the other steadying him.

It was not the objective to wound an opponent, merely to disarm him at best, so Elladan strode over to Thurin an knelt before him.

"Lord Thurin, are you injured?" Elladan could not see any blood at least. "Mylord?"

Thurin did not answer and both elves in the clearing were taken slightly aback when a third party appeared next to them, quietly asking Thurin the same question.

"Estel? What are you doing?" Elladan looked at his human brother who was currently helping Lord Thurin take off his helmet.

"We need to get the armour off!" The man snapped as Thurin pushed away his hands and continued to remove the perturbing headpiece.

When the helmet finally rolled to the floor a cascade of long black hair fell around the elf's shoulders and down his back, shimmering with molten fire in the last rays of the stetting sun.

King Thranduil, who had risen from his seat and now stood at the edge of the dais watched the events blow with a worried frown.

"Lord Thurin, are you well?"

As the elf in question raised his head to face the King, Thranduil's jaw dropped in surprise.

Behind him he could hear Legolas gasp and jump to his feet.

In the clearing below Elladan stared into familiar blue eyes, unable to fully comprehend what had just occurred.

"Elenath!" An angered roar filled the cooling evening air and a tall, fair-haired elf strode into the field, blue eyes blazing.

Elenath suppressed a sigh, she could barely breathe anyway. Elladan's blow had dented her breastplate and probably cracked a rib or two which now prevented her from inhaling properly.

Estel was already working the catches of her armour but she had urged him to fasten them ever more tightly when he had helped her get dressed, much to her dismay.

Glorfindel pushed Elladan roughly aside. "What in the name of Eru have you done!" He stared into his daughter's pale face.

It was forbidden for women to participate in the disciplines of the warriors. She might have been a worthy fighter, but she had broken the law.

"I fought…" she panted, "…as you taught me." Defiance glittered in her eyes. And tears of rage, for she had not expected so much disapproval from the one man who was the sole reason why she entered the contest in the first place.

Estel finally released the last catch, enabling her to breathe more easily, yet no less painfully.

"I was a disgrace to you as a daughter. I thought perhaps I could make you proud of me as a warrior." She lowered her head in defeat and to hide the hot rush of tears that threatened to spill over her cheeks at any moment. "Apparently I have only managed to disgrace myself yet again."

The Vanyarin elf lord stared at his only child, disbelief written all over his fair face.

"Elenath…" He looked down at his daughter, working hard to hide his true feelings from the gawking crowd. "Do you really believe that this is the way a true warrior would work out his problems? By lying? Nay, if you had felt the need to you should have talked to me."

Elenath looked at her father with huge, shimmering, pain filled eyes. "When should I have talked to you, adar?" Her tone was icy. "When you were in Mithlond? Or during one of your many council meetings?" She shook her head smiling bitterly. "Besides, there was nothing to talk about anyway."

Accepting Estel's help she rose unsteadily to her feet, hissing in pain when her injuries protested.

Turning towards the dais she bowed somewhat stiffly before the King. "Forgive me, your Majesty, I meant no harm or disrespect with my actions." Her gaze flickered briefly to Legolas before she bowed her head, awaiting the King's punishment.

Thranduil looked from Elenath to Glorfindel, who stood just behind his daughter, feeling sorry for the elf lord who had become a friend to the King long ago.

"I accept your apology, Elenath, daughter of Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower, but understand that I cannot tolerate lawbreaking and therefore I ask you, do you accept whatever punishment I deem worthy of such a crime?"

"Aye, I shall accept your punishment, your Majesty." She sighed wearily, no longer able to hide her pain.

Thranduil nodded, somewhere deep inside he felt compassion for the young elf-maiden standing before him, a look of utter defeat etched on her beautiful face.

"Very well. Then I bid you go back to the palace so a healer may have a look at your injuries. I will call for you to hear your punishment in my own time."

"Thank you, your Majesty." Elenath bowed once more, wincing as white-hot fire shot through her upper body, causing her breathing to hitch.

"As for you, Dúnadan," the King addressed Estel, who had moved to help Elenath and now froze in his tracks, "I gather you had some part to play in this foul game?"

Elenath tensed, but Estel gently pried her fingers from his arm and lowered his head.

"Aye, your Majesty, I knew that it was Lady Elenath who fought as Lord Thurin. I too shall accept whatever punishment you see fit."

The King nodded thoughtfully. It was not the first time he had witnessed the Ranger getting into trouble, but it was the first time the man was not directly the cause for it.

"Then I shall summon you too, as soon as I have reached a decision."

Estel nodded, never in his life would he have left Elenath to take all the blame, though she was not happy at all with his actions.

When King Thranduil dismissed them they left the clearing behind them, followed by the murmur of the crowd as they made their way back towards the palace on the well-trodden path that led through the dark forest.

"You did not need to admit that you had helped me," she reprimanded the human who walked beside her. "I goaded you into helping me, you are not to blame."

"Nay?" Estel snorted. "The decision was still my own. I will stand for my actions."

"Perhaps you are both simply nifts." Elrohir remarked as he caught up with them. "I can't believe you actually _did_ that!"

"Neither can I!" Elladan looked at Elenath. "I am sorry for hurting you, though." Guilt weighed heavily on the older twin's heart.

Elenath stopped and stared into Elladan's face. "'Twas not your fault. _I_ wanted to participate in the tournament. Any injuries I sustained are due to my own stupidity."

She continued walking down the forest path, grateful for Estel's supporting arm under her shoulders.

"I am sorry though that I lied to you, El, I meant no harm." Somehow she had failed to see how wrong she had been with her charade. Now not only she was in trouble, but Estel too.

Elladan smiled at her. "Worry not, it was not I who took a blow." He winced slightly as she glared at him. "But to be quite honest, you are an exceptional swordfighter."

"Hannon-le." Elenath smiled weakly. "Though I'm afraid you are the only one who thinks thus."

Both Elladan and Elrohir started to protest but were silenced by Estel who had noted the elleth's laboured breathing. There was enough time for bickering later.

When they arrived at the palace Estel and Elenath slipped in through the servants entrance. It was bad enough that _they_ whispered when they passed, but neither of them wanted to face the full wrath of the gossipmongers that were the nobles of the elven realms.

"Shall I stay?" Estel asked, concerned at how pale the elf-maiden was when they reached her room.

Elenath shook her head as she sat down gingerly on the bed, careful not to aggravate her hurting ribs any further.

"Thank you, but perhaps you should go to your room and wait there. The King will probably want to see us soon."

"I'm afraid he might." Estel agreed as he walked to the door, gracing her with a lopsided grin.

As soon as Estel had left a feeling of dread filled her stomach at the thought of being punished.

Though she was of royal descent she had always been taught that she did not stand above the law and was therefore to be held fully accountable when she violated it.

Up until now she had wholeheartedly agreed.

Tears she had not dared shed earlier threatened to spill over as weariness consumed her.

She had not only managed to truly disgrace herself but also her father, a thought that was not easy to stomach. Never in her life would she willingly do something to hurt him.

True, she was angry at Glorfindel for spending so much time on his duties as Lord Elrond's seneschal, but that did not warrant her behaviour.

A quiet knock on the door alerted her that the healer the King had spoken of had arrived, yet she was surprised to find that it was a familiar presence that entered the room on her invitation.

Lord Elrond found Elenath sitting on the edge of a huge four-poster bed in a dark room, her face drawn in pain that had little to do with the injuries she had sustained earlier.

Sadness emanated from her, tangible for those who were not indifferent to another's feelings.

"Tinu-nîn." Smiling softly he took her small, cool hand in his own larger ones and stroked away a stray tear that left a glittering path on her smooth cheek. "My brave little warrior." He tipped her chin up so her glistening eyes met his.

"I'm so sorry, vede, I did not mean to cause any harm. Nor did I mean to disobey ada. I just wanted to…" She sighed heavily. Nothing she could say would undo the wrongs she had created.

"Hush now, child. There is enough time for words later." Elrond had started to examine her, noting with a frown the ugly bruises that were already showing where Elladan's sword had dented her armour.

As he applied gentle pressure to her ribs she hissed in pain and drew back slightly.

"I will apply some salve and bandage, one rib is most definitely cracked. You will need some time to heal, Tinu, why don't you rest for a while?" Reaching for a pot of salve that he had brought along Elrond failed to notice the look of desperation that flitted across her face.

"Elenath?" The elf lord looked at her when he received no answer, concern evident in his piercing gaze.

"Aye vede, I shall rest."

Nodding, Elrond finished his work and helped her lie back more comfortably. Only when her eyes were half-lidded and glazed with sleep did he leave the room.

It was time to find Glorfindel and perhaps do some talking of his own.

* * *

"But why, Peredhel, why would my own child defy me thus" Glorfindel turned in a swirl of cream coloured and dark blue robes, looking at his friend with a pained expression.

The two elf lords were standing in the living quarter's of the Vanyarin's guest chambers, or rather Elrond was standing, Glorfindel was pacing and had been doing so for quite some time.

Elrond thought for a moment, but ere the Noldorin lord could answer King Thranduil strode into the room, followed by the Prince and two guards, Amil-Garil and Trelan.

Glorfindel ceased his pacing and bowed slightly as the ruler of Mirkwood stood before him, smiling despite the awkwardness of the situation.

"Peace, mellon-nîn, be at ease. Is it not the nature of children to defy their parents" The King cast a pointed sideways glance at Legolas, who flushed a little despite himself.

Perhaps he had not always obeyed his father, but was it legitimate to say that he openly _defied_ him? Nay, he did not believe so.

Trelan's soft snicker behind him made him cast a furious glance at the smaller elf, who only winked mischievously in return.

Legolas sighed. Nearly three millennia of friendship had given both Trelan and Raniean far too much knowledge about the Prince's exploits, much to his regret.

Glorfindel shook his head. "I beg your forgiveness for Elenath's behaviour, Thranduil, I do not know what prompted my daughter to act as she did."

The King shook his head, spilling golden hair over the deep green fabric of his cloak. "There is naught to forgive and were it but between friends I would let Elenath get away with merely a reprimand. But as it happened before half the elves on Arda, I am afraid that I will have to deal out punishment, as the law requires."

It hurt Thranduil beyond words to see his son stiffen nigh imperceptibly at the mention of punishing anybody.

Though it had been many millennia ago, Legolas still had the emotional scars his uncle, Thranduil's own brother, had dealt him as a child. _Punishment _for fictitious crimes committed by an elfling.

Unaware of the Prince's reaction Glorfindel nodded. "I would not expect anything else, Mylord. The Valar know she has most certainly deserved it." Though his words were uttered coolly, unease gripped the Vanyarin lord's heart. He did not want his daughter treated like a criminal, whether she deserved it or not.

"Worry not, my friend" the King smiled, sensing the other elf's unease. "The ancient laws require me to chose a form of retribution I deem worthy of that kind of crime, and I have just decided what to do with Elenath." Thranduil stepped closer, his lips but a hairsbreadth away from Glorfindel's ear.

The other elves present could not hear what the King said, but a heavy weight seemed to lift off their spirits as the elf lord's eyes lighted and he laughed out loud.

Clapping the King on the shoulder the golden haired elf lord tried in vain to suppress his mirth. "That is indeed a most terrible idea, my King, grand, yet terrible"

Thranduil smiled. "And worthy of her status." He turned to Elrond. "But what to do with your Estel? It seems to me the boy was well aware of Elenath's betrayal. Have you any ideas what to do with him….this time?"

Elrond sighed, he was well aware that it was not the first time Estel had gotten into trouble in Mirkwood.

To him as a father it was becoming somewhat embarrassing.

Noting his friend's discomfort Glorfindel turned to the King, smiling. "Mylord, I have an idea that might just work for us all."

* * *

When Elenath awoke the next morning she was slightly surprised that she had actually slept quite peacefully for more hours than she had ever rested at a time.

A heartbeat later she noted with a slight frown that Lord Elrond must have incorporated some sedative herb in the salve he had applied to her bruises last night.

Being a father to three sons had obviously made him quite inventive with the medicines he used.

But what of the King's summons? Had Elrond delayed them too?

The young elf sat up somewhat stiffly, her ribs still hurt but the pain was nowhere near as bad as it had been the day before.

Milky sunlight filled the room and birds twittered merrily in the trees beyond the window.

All seemed well...until the memories of the tournament slammed into her with full force, causing her insides to clench uncomfortably.

She could still hear the spectators oohing and aahing and whispering hurriedly among themselves, shocked by the turn of events and the brashness of the dark-haired elf maiden.

A long day lay ahead of her, she thought wearily, and her first task would be to find her father and beg Glorfindel to forgive her.

She had spoken spiteful words that made her deeply ashamed as she thought of them now, for she was no longer an elfling that did not comprehend the duties a man such as her father was burdened with.

Reprimanding him for doing what he deemed necessary had been an act so childish that she wished she could just turn back time and undo the ills she had created.

But then again...Had not Glorfindel looked at her in disgust as she lay on the floor, barely able to breathe and hurting?

Had he not simply left her lying there, uncaring whether she was well or not? And had it not been he who had called her a wimp, even if he had not explicitly used that word?

Ire burned brightly in Elenath's heart, obliterating all reason.

Nay! She would not seek him out and beg him for mercy. She would stand before the King and accept whatever fate he had deemed for her! Although her father might think otherwise, in her soul she was a warrior and as a warrior she would act.

Snatching up an overtunic and belting it loosely around the undergarments she already wore Elenath slid out of her room and walked soundlessly down the corridor, barley taking note of the handful of guards that were standing watch.

Within minutes she had left the building behind her and stepped outside, welcoming the cool morning air.

The grass was still wet as she made her way through the gardens, heading for the massive gates that had already been opened, either by Prince Legolas or the King himself.

Because of the festivities the gates – that were closed and sealed by elven magic at night – were opened at daybreak so as not to give the guests a feeling of being locked up.

Only Thranduil and Legolas wielded the magic that would open the gates, a chosen few guards had the authority to close them.

After leaving the palace grounds it took Elenath no more than ten minutes to reach a favoured spot of hers on the banks of the Forest River.

The tiny glade was surrounded by trees that reached all the way to the water's edge, giving a sense of privacy to the elf maiden as she undressed and unwound the bandage around her ribs.

A frown creased her brow as she saw the ugly blue-black bruise that ran diagonally across her torso for the first time.

No wonder she could hardly move!

Stepping into the water she sighed as the cool currents rippled against her.

Luckily the summer had been very warm and the river had lost the worst of it's chill.

Elenath submerged herself completely, letting the water untangle her hair and wash away the sweat and dirt that still clung to her from the day before.

Breaking through the surface she revelled at the feeling of the morning breeze as it caressed her wet skin while the sun shone down, spilling golden light and warmth across her.

That is how Legolas found her, standing in the shallow water near the banks of the river, her eyes closed and her face turned towards the sun.

Long raven tresses fell over her shoulders, covering her breasts and gently floating on the water where it reached her waist, her long, slender fingers splayed and combing through the stream as it flowed past.

Feeling like an intruder the Prince tried to slip away just as quietly as he had accidentally stumbled upon her but she must have finally sensed his presence, for a pair of surprised, cobalt-blue eyes locked onto him.

"Your highness!" Elenath gasped, crossing her arms in front of herself and dropping into a crouch in the water, using the glittering surface to hide beneath.

"Forgive me!" Legolas turned at the same moment, mortified that she had seen him gawk at her. "I did not mean to intrude. I knew not that you were here."

Elenath suppressed a sigh. This was most definitely _not_ what she needed on the day she was to be sentenced by the King.

"I believe it is better…. I…I shall leave now." The Prince stammered awkwardly. "Forgive me…" He turned to leave, taking a few steps towards the woods, when her voice froze him in his tracks.

"Wait!" Elenath could not believe she had just said that aloud. It was true, she had wanted desperately to talk to him since seeing his shocked expression at the tournament last night, but _now_ was most definitely not the time for a chat!

Legolas stopped but did not turn, for he heard her sloshing through the water, heading towards the shore.

"Please, don't go." Elenath hurriedly pulled on her clothes, hissing when she made a wrong move and thereby aggravated her injuries.

Hearing the sound of pain Legolas spun around and saw with relief that she was dressed, but she was kneeling on the soft moss near the water's edge, pale as moonlight.

"Elenath!" Three quick strides had him kneeling next to her, gently cupping her cool cheek. "What is it?"

She shook her head, sending a few droplets of water in his direction. "'Tis naught. I merely cracked a rib yesterday…"

Legolas leaned back on his heels, looking into her pain-filled eyes. "Naught you say?" He asked with a hint of anger in his voice. "Let me see for myself." Worry made his voice sound harsher than he had intended.

Something in his demeanour made her obey and she carefully pulled up her tunic to reveal the bruise on her chest.

Wincing in sympathy the Prince shook his head.

He had experienced similar injuries many times in his life and therefore knew the pain they caused.

"You are just like Estel. All is but a scratch." He retrieved the bandages, that lay on her overtunic. "Here, let me."

As gently as possible he started re-binding them around her torso, giving a satisfied nod when he was done.

"I've been looking for you for days." His pale blue eyes met hers. "Why did you run away on the evening of the ball?"

Elenath busied herself with refastening her undertunic, keeping her gaze averted.

"I don't know why. Perhaps I was afraid." She lifted her eyes to meet his. "We had no business doing what we did."

She started to rise but he caught her hand and pulled her back down.

"Why? What was so wrong with what we did? 'Twas not unlawful." His eyes snapped cool flames, for he could not understand why she seemed to reject him.

"Oh Legolas…" Elenath smiled tenderly at him. "I was so confused that night. My father and I had had a most unusual talk and besides that my thoughts revolved around the tournament. When Raniean interrupted us it was easier for me to leave than to face what I felt for you."

His gaze had grown solemn but deep inside she could see a spark of hope and uncertainty.

"And, pray tell, what feelings did you have? Were you ashamed?"

"No!" Elenath shook her head vehemently. "I was not ashamed, but having to face the fact that I had fallen in love with a friend I had known all my life was too much to accept then."

For a few heartbeats the Prince just stared at her, leaving her to wait breathlessly for his reaction.

"Did you say "love"?" He queried, uncertain if he had truly comprehended what she said.

Elenath smiled. "Aye, that I did, your Highness."

"Good." Legolas pulled her closer, mindful of her injuries, and cut off anything she might have replied with a deep, breathtaking, heart stopping kiss that had her literally melting in his arms.

"And Elenath…" He murmured against her lips. "Never call me "your Highness" again."

* * *

TBC…

Elvish translations:

Galu mae – good luck

Hannon-le – thank you


	3. Chapter 3

Estel-Ara: Thanks for reviewing my story and sorry for not updating sooner. As a bonus there'll be 2 new chapters today. Enjoy!

* * *

CHAPTER 3

Two days later the festive spirit of the Summer Solstice still held Mirkwood in it's spell, except for two people – a young elf and an even younger human.

Elenath stood in the centre of the huge library, glaring at the stacks of scrolls and books lying around on tables and dusty cabinets.

King Thranduil had chosen to punish her by ordering her to reorganize the chaos that had been left by a group of elven students just days before the festival.

The library had been in a dire state for many years and now it was up to Elenath to straighten it out.

"Remind me never to cross your father again." She sighed as Legolas entered the room, carrying a tray with some food and drinks for both, which he set down on a table she had already emptied.

Laughing softly the Prince stepped behind her and gently massaged the tension out of the muscles in her shoulders.

The last two days had been heaven for the two elves, though they still worked hard to hide their feelings from the others.

Legolas was still being wooed by many an elf-maiden and the negative light Elenath had cast on herself did not make the situation any easier. Therefore both considered secrecy to be their best option.

Gossip had been fierce after the tournament and Elenath still dreaded encountering all elves save for her friends and family and even after King Thranduil had declared his method of punishment many resumed to whisper whenever she was near.

None seemed to remember how they had praised Lord Thurin's style, his agility and his abilities.

Of course there had been a few voices that had demanded harsher treatment for Elenath, feeling that "library duty" was a much too lenient penalty, but those elves did not realize that for the young elf maiden this was the equivalent of hell.

Oh, she liked to read - that she had inherited from her father - but she did not like sitting around dead-silent rooms filled with musty books and no company at all. _Cleaning_ such a room was near intolerable.

"What are you thinking of?" Legolas queried while he gently nuzzled the sensitive skin of her neck, just below her ear.

"Hmmm?" For a few heartbeats she was not for the life of her able to form a decent reply. "Oh, naught…" She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck, playing with his silky hair.

As his kisses deepened their intensity Elenath found that something deep within her flared to life, sending delicious fire pulsing through her veins.

Suddenly his hair no longer sufficed, she wanted more…she wanted to _feel_ him.

While his lips found hers she let her hands drift down to his tunic where she started to open the catches one by one.

Heat radiated off him, seeming to scorch her fingers as she slid them under his tunic, revelling in the feel of his muscles rippling beneath his soft skin.

Following her example Legolas tried to undo the lacing of her dress, but somehow his fingers seemed to tangle the slinky strips of satin that crisscrossed on her back even more.

Muttering a few choice words in the tongue of the Dwarves the Prince was close to simply tearing the garment apart, when he felt Elenath's body shaking with suppressed mirth.

"You find this funny?" He demanded, but couldn't quite keep his lips from quirking into a grin.

Elenath shook her head, trying hard to put on a straight face and failing miserably.

"Nay, I don't. I was merely thinking how bothersome this dress has been all day."

Legolas regarded the garment, the way the thin powder-blue silk clung to Elenath's body highlighting the generous swell of her breasts and gentle curve of her hips and how it drifted around her feet with every movement she made.

The fabric was just thick enough to cover all that should not be seen, yet it tempted the senses.

"Here…" Elenath untangled the laces and let the bodice fall to her waist.

When the barrier of fabric fell away to reveal perfectly shaped, creamy breasts that were crowned by rosy nipples that seemed to await his kiss, all Legolas could do was stare reverently.

Slowly he enfolded them in his hands, feeling, relishing their softness and sending sparks of heat coursing through Elenath's body. His very caress was enough to send her on the verge of sanity.

"Yes!" She pressed against him, needing the closeness.

He had already shrugged out of his tunic, but she wanted more, so her hands wandered to the waistband of his leggings, fumbling with the ties.

She had just managed to release them when Legolas jerked back, staring at her with a look of horror in his eyes.

"Legolas?" Elenath stared at him, hurt and confusion evident in her gaze.

A heartbeat later the terrified look disappeared from his face and he seemed to return back to her. "I'm so sorry." He murmured, unable to meet her gaze.

Groping for his tunic he turned his back to her and started to dress.

Unable to comprehend what had just happened, Elenath pulled her dress back on and quickly fastened the laces to hold the bodice in place.

A lump had formed in her throat and hot tears threatened to spill from behind her closed eyelids at any moment.

Sensing Elenath's pain Legolas turned around slowly. He had never meant to react as he did.

Memories long buried deep within him had resurfaced and turned a beautiful moment into one of terror.

His heart clenched when he saw her standing in a shaft of dusty sunlight, her head bowed slightly, her shoulders slumped in defeat, looking so much as she did on the day of the tournament.

"Tinu." He wanted to touch her, hold her, reassure her that his reaction was not her fault, that she had done nothing wrong but he could see that she had withdrawn inside herself, sheltering her heart from any more hurt.

Too well did he know what she was doing, he had mastered that particular art many, many millennia ago.

Yet now was not the time to lose her. He needed her like he needed the light of the stars and the warmth of the sun. He needed her like he needed the rustle of the wind in the leaves of the forest and the love of his friends and family in his heart.

"Tinu, listen to me." He laid a gentle hand on her shoulder, but she turned away from his touch.

Though she did not show it her heart was easily wounded and only by hiding behind the mask of the tough warrior was she able to protect it.

With Legolas she had let down her guard completely and therefore his rejection stung all the more.

When she finally turned to face him her eyes were cold. "What!"

The haunted look in Legolas' eyes was not lost to her and her entire demeanour softened slightly. "If I went to far you had but to say something."

Legolas shook his head. "You did nothing wrong."

"I don't understand" Elenath looked at Legolas. "Perhaps I judged the situation wrong,...perhaps I was rash..." She trailed off as he shook his head and walked to the window.

"It was nothing you did, meleth-nîn. It was just..." He hesitated, uncertain whether he wanted her to know all that had occurred so very long ago.  
He was afraid of losing her, but deep within his heart he knew he _would_ lose her for certain if he did not open up to her.

"What happened" Her query was soft, worry had replaced the bite in her voice as she sat down opposite him on the windowsill.

For a few minutes they sat in silence while the golden afternoon sun filtered in through the dusty windows, bathing them in it's warm light.

When he finally spoke Legolas' voice was soft and slightly strained and his gaze had drifted to the view unfolding before them, sweeping over the vibrant green treetops of his home.

"Do you remember when we were young, after the war against my uncle? Do you still remember how eager I was to help my father with his duties" He glanced at Elenath, only looking away again when she nodded.

"My father finally deemed me old enough when I had seen one hundred summers. He sent me to Dorolyn as his envoy. King Melèch had requested a meeting..." He swallowed hard, the memories - though old - were still extremely painful.

In a muted voice he told her how the whole meeting had been a setup, how Melèch had intended to destroy the Royal Family of Mirkwood.  
For the first time in many years he spoke of the slave labour he was forced to do in the stone quarries of Dorolyn and of the floggings he received for even the smallest misstep.

"When after all the punishment he bestowed upon me I yet failed to recognize him as my master, he handed me over to the Corsair for some "special treatment"." His voice was barely a whisper. "It was hell."

There was no need for the Prince to say out loud what this "special treatment" had been, for Elenath could very well imagine what it was that would nearly break this proud and strong elf.

She was ghostly pale but her hands were strong and steady when she cupped his cheek, feeling the tightly clenched jaw muscles beneath.

"I am sorry for having you relive the torments of the past, but I ask you only one thing: did you truly believe I would turn from you upon hearing what had happened" Her smile was tender and full of love.

Legolas pulled her close and buried his face in the hair that fell over her shoulders. Taking a deep, liberating breath he was enveloped in the sweet fragrance of roses.

"Ai Tinu, I did not know what to expect, for I had not thought of this." He drew back to look into her face.

Her smile widened as she traced the outline of his leaf-shaped ear. "Ernil-nîn, I could never turn from you, no matter what."

A love deeper than he had ever felt for another person warmed the Prince's heart and he pulled Elenath even closer, tilting her chin up slightly until their lips met.

"We should slow down." The elf-maiden murmured against his mouth, too caught up in the delicious feeling of closeness to draw back but an inch.

"Should we?" Legolas queried.

"Definitely!" Elenath sighed and finally managed to break the spell that had held her enthralled. "Someone comes!"

The two elves jumped apart and straightened their clothes, managing to look only slightly guilty when Raniean and Trelan entered the library, both grinning broadly.

"Your Highness, the King requests your presence in his office." Raniean bowed smoothly, stepping aside so the Prince could pass.

Elenath nodded, trying in vain to hide the semi-undone state of her lacing from Trelan's probing gaze. Her heart fluttered happily when Legolas smiled and walked past Raniean,

yet she was certain that the smaller elf knew exactly what had just almost happened.

Heaving a sigh she straightened her clothing as soon as the doors fell shut and gazed at the stacks of scrolls.

It was most fortunate that elves lived an immortal life, for she would most certainly need more that a human's lifespan to straighten out the mess that was Mirkwood's library.

* * *

Elsewhere in the vast expanse that was King Thranduil's palace a young human fared no better.

Ducked over a large vat filled with hot water and soap Estel tried in vain to wash a stain out of a tablecloth, swearing fluently in Dwarfish.

"Now, young Dúnadan, there is no need for such vile language." Miluiwen, the elf-maiden in charge of the palace laundry admonished lightly.

The human flushed a deep red and rubbed even harder at the stain that stubbornly refused to disappear.

Estel suspected that it had been either his father or Glorfindel who had come up with this punishment for he doubted that the King was capable of such cruelty.

For days now he had been labouring over the palace's laundry, his hands were red and shrivelled and his tunic was constantly soaked.

Legolas had stopped by occasionally to lighten his friend's mood, but the Prince's presence tended to cause quite a stir among the palace employees that both the Prince and Estel had agreed to rather meet when the Dúnadan was finished with his duties for the day.

"Look 'Ro, what a sight to behold!" An amused voice taunted behind the human.

Suppressing a sigh Estel dropped the linen into the vat and turned around, wiping his hands on his tunic.

"Have you nothing better to do than disturb people while they work?" Annoyance was written all over the Dúnadan's face as he watched his brothers approaching him.

Elladan tapped his finger to his pursed lips, pretending to be deep in thought. Finally his face brightened and he shook his head, grinning.

"Actually no, I have naught to do that can not wait until I paid my little brother a visit."

Ere he registered what had happened the smacking sound of wet cloth against skin filled the room, followed by a gasping breath.

Elladan's eyes widened in surprise as the wet tablecloth struck him square in the face and fell to the floor in a heap. Water ran in rivulets down his smooth cheeks and dripped off his chin and his hair, which had been thoroughly drenched.

„ESTEL!" Elrohir could barely contain his laughter as he gaped at his twin who looked quite ready to murder their human brother.

Grinning broadly the human took a few cautious steps backwards to put more distance between himself and the elf, who was stalking him with a malicious gleam in his grey eyes.

"Oh, now you have really forsaken your miserable little life." Elladan growled as he wiped the water from his face with the sleeve of his tunic. He took a few steps towards the younger being, very much like a cat stalking it's prey but the slight upward-twitch of his lips belied his murderous expression.

"El, you wouldn't want to hurt _me_, your _brother_, would you?" Estel pleaded, gasping for air as laughter made his words hitch. "Think of what Ada would say when you tell him that you murdered his _favourite_ son!" He vaulted nimbly over the vat, putting the wooden tub between himself and the red-faced elf.

"He would thank me." The elder twin spat. "For then he could finally sleep peacefully and would not have to fret about you permanently." With a feral grin Elladan leaped over the vat and grabbed Estel by the front of his tunic, for the human had unknowingly backed himself into a corner.

After a short struggle the elf gained the upper hand an dunked the Dúnadan's head into the warm, soapy water.

Though the fight was a little rough Elladan loved his human brother too much to really hold a serious grudge against him and therefore he made sure not to drown him and accidentally kill the one man who held within him the only hope Middle-earth still possessed.

Gasping and sputtering Estel emerged from the tub, spitting out a mouthful of soapy water and snorting to get the burning liquid out of his nostrils.

His eyes watered and his vision wavered as he groped for another piece of laundry, which found it's mark in Elrohir's face, who had stepped behind his brothers to end the fight if necessary.

How the events had progressed from there none of them could tell later, but they found themselves sitting in a flooded laundry room, breathing heavily with laughter and exhaustion, all of them trying to prevent any more soapy water from dripping from their hair into their eyes.

"I hope one of you has a good explanation for the state of this room." A stern voice spoke from the door.

Three heads turned and three pairs of eyes fixed on twinkling blue ones.

Lord Elrond stood in the doorway, trying desperately to look serious while the dishevelled, drenched state of his sons was indeed a most amusing sight to behold.

"Ada!" Estel was the first to find his voice. "I…um…I think there is a reason…well…you see, it started out when Elladan…" The human didn't get to finish his sentence though when two voices interrupted him, which resulted in another shouting match, but they were all of them too tired to actually do more than raise their voices.

"ENOUGH!" Elrond's deep voice bellowed through the large, vaulted room. "I care not who started what and why, all I expect is for the _three_ of you to clean up this mess."

Giving his sons no chance to protest he raised a warning eyebrow before he turned and stalked out of the laundry, his velvet robe billowing behind him.

"Wonderful. Just _wonderful_." Elrohir mumbled as he rose to his feet, grumbling while he searched for dry cloths with which they could mop up the floor. "See what you've done, Estel!"

"_I_!" Pushing to his feet the human glared at the elf, silver eyes blazing. "_I_ didn't ask you to come here and bother me!"

When Elladan started to protest also, Miluiwen rolled her eyes heavenwards and shook her head, sending long chestnut braids flying.

She had been watching the latest exchange from the doorway, ready to offer her help, but now she just turned and walked back into the adjoining room to the stack of laundry she had been folding neatly.

Let the young ones fight it out, she did not want part of any of it.

"Valar have mercy on them." She whispered as she cast a last glance over her shoulder. Though they had started mopping up the water the bickering had not ceased.

She reached for one of the Prince's tunics and started folding it meticulously, a bright grin lighting her face at the sound of raised voices.

Life was good.

TBC…


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER 4**

Legolas stood in King Thranduil's spacious office, waiting patiently for his father to finish signing the parchment spread out before him.

He had many fond memories of the times he had spent in this room, working side by side with his father – a custom they had started many millennia ago when Legolas had been no more than a child.

Sunlight poured in through the high windows behind Thranduil's desk, bathing him in it's golden light.

The Prince knew that he looked very much like his father, though he seriously doubted that he would ever look as regal and ethereal as the elder elf did at that very moment.

The light of the sun made the King's hair spill across his shoulders like liquid gold and reflected off the mithril crown resting upon his brow. The greens and gold of his robes seemed more intense in colour and his eyes sparkled like blue crystal as he looked up and smiled at his son.

"Why don't you take a seat, ion-nîn, there is something I would like to talk to you about." Thranduil motioned to the vacant chair opposite his own, the very one Legolas tended to use when aiding his father in the many affairs of ruling his kingdom.

The Prince nodded and sat, solemnly waiting for his father to start talking.

Thranduil watched his only son and felt pride rise within him, for despite all the torments the young one had lived through he had grown into an honourable elf, a son any father would be proud of, soft spoken and gentle on the one side and yet he was an excellent warrior and master archer who valiantly defended what he loved and believed in.

Legolas had endured much pain at the hands of humans and yet he had set aside his own reservations and befriended one of them, quite a blessing for them all as it had turned out.

Then there had been Doriflen, the King's own brother, who had very nearly killed the Prince when he was no more than a boy. The twisted elf had almost destroyed the Prince's trust in himself and his family but Legolas had emerged from those trials and it seemed that they had made him even stronger.

Never had the lad demanded anything for himself, though Thranduil doubted that he could have refused his son anything had he asked.

When Legolas' mother Elvéwen had left for the Undying Lands the Prince had still been quite young, but he had bravely endured the pain of her parting and stood by his father at all times, allowing himself to mourn her passing only in the privacy of his chambers and only in the presence of his father or at most in that of his best friends, Raniean and Trelan.

Thranduil sighed. He had never wanted to force the boy to do anything he did not wish to do freely, but it was high time they talked about one matter of vital importance to the Royal Family and Mirkwood.

"You might have asked yourself why I requested your presence." The King started, folding his hands on the polished mahogany tabletop before him.

Legolas smiled. "That thought had crossed my mind." He had not failed to notice the weariness in his father's age-old eyes.

"Of course." The King's face brightened as he too smiled. "Legolas, you know that I am very proud of you my son, and I would never ask anything of you, that you would not be willing to do."

Legolas nodded, somewhat puzzled at his father's strange words. "What do you ask of me, ada? What can I do for you?"

Thranduil's heart clenched at the eagerness in his voice and gaze. "It is not something you should do for me, ion-nîn, it is Mirkwood's future that weighs on my mind." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Legolas, you are an adult now and I think that perhaps it is time you chose a wife. Somebody you deem worthy of yourself and of the title of the Queen of Mirkwood."

The Prince's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "A wife!" He stared at his father with an odd expression on his face.

The King actually blushed slightly. "Yes, well…you see…Of course I would never _force _you, but just _think_ about it."

"There is no need to think about it." The Prince replied quietly.

Thranduil sighed. "Legolas, please…"

The Prince shook his head, golden hair falling across his shoulders. "There is no need to think about it anymore, ada, for I have already made my choice." A mischievous smile curved his lips.

For a heartbeat the King was not quite sure if he had understood correctly, but Legolas' expression told him that he most likely had.

"You have made your choice? Do you mean you have chosen an elleth or have you chosen to remain unmarried?"

"It is an elf-maiden I have chosen, for I wish for a family of my own someday, but that is not the reason for my decision. 'Tis quite simple actually: I love her, ada." Legolas' eyes shone with so much emotion that it filled a father's heart with warmth.

Thranduil stared at his son in disbelief. Had the boy truly just declared that he had fallen in love!

"That is wonderful, ion-nîn, but tell me, who is this most fortunate elleth that has caught the heart of the Prince of Mirkwood?"

Legolas grinned somewhat sheepishly and he could feel the tips of his ears colour slightly.

"You know her quite well, for it is Elenath, daughter of Glorfindel, whom I love with all my heart and soul."

The King's smile lost some of it's radiance at hearing the name. "Elenath? Legolas, do you really believe that she is a good choice? No!" He held up his hand to silence the Prince's protests.

"I do not doubt your feelings for her, and to be honest I am very fond of Elenath, but she has …duties…of her own. You know this."

"I do." The smile had vanished from Legolas' face, leaving him looking sombre with only the slightest hint of pain in his eyes. "But she is of noble birth and Glorfindel has raised her according to her status. She is more than capable of fulfilling royal duties, of that I have no doubt. Besides, is it not more important that it is love that binds us and not status or duty?"

Thranduil sighed. "She is Noldor. You know that not all of our people have forgiven the deeds of the Noldor in the past." The events the King was referring to had happened many, many millennia ago, before the dawning of the Sun and the rising of the Moon, when the Noldor had left Valinor, joining Fëanor after his dispute with the Valar over the Silmarils.

At Alqualondë the Teleri had refused to give up their beloved ships to the Noldor so they could sail eastward to Middle-earth, which had resulted in the slaying of many of the Teleri.

Even now, millennia later the Kinslaying was still an issue of some dispute between the Noldor and especially the Sindar and Silvan elves.

"Actually she is half Vanyar." Legolas pointed out. "But I care not of which race she is born. All I care is for the love that I feel for her."

Thranduil studied his son intently. Seeing the love shine in the blue eyes of the young elf was truly a blessing and the King was relieved to see that his son had found a partner all on his own, but his choice could not have been any more complicated.

"I understand and honour the feelings you have for Elenath and you are right: love is more important that aught else, but unfortunately her birthright can not be overlooked. And it is not the Vanyarin side of her that has me worried."

"I cannot give her up." Legolas expression turned stony and a defiant light shone deep within his eyes.

Again Thranduil's heart clenched. The boy truly had never asked for anything….

"No, you are right. You cannot give her up. But are you sure that she will consent to marrying you?"

Legolas' brow furrowed in surprise. He had not expected his father to give in that easily.

"I have no idea, but I shall ask her tonight. If I have your permission."

"Of course you do." Thranduil smiled. Even now Legolas was asking for his approval.

"But why wait for tonight?" The King arched an eyebrow. "Captain Raniean!" He raised his voice just beyond speaking level, knowing the young elf outside his study would hear him.

As if to confirm his thoughts the heavy doors opened and Raniean strode into the room, bowing respectfully before his lieges.

"You called, your Majesty?"

"I did." The King's merry gaze travelled from a slightly clueless Prince to the Captain of his Royal Guard. "Please send for Lord Glorfindel and Lady Elenath. I wish to speak with them momentarily. And please send for Lord Elrond also."

Ran saluted. "Yes, Sire." Turning on his heel he walked out of the office and shut the doors firmly behind him.

"Now?" Legolas finally found his voice again and stared at his father in disbelief.

"Why not?" Thranduil leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers, his gaze never leaving his son.

Legolas could no longer remain seated and started pacing the floor in front of his father's massive desk. "Actually I had thought of asking her…alone."

Thranduil arched an eyebrow at his son's glare, yet he smiled.

Of course Legolas would have wanted to ask her alone, but given the matter of the union it would probably be better if both he and Glorfindel were present.

Elven politics had ever been a highly complicated undertaking and especially the unions of two royal houses had to be thoroughly planned and executed.

It pained him a little that he would have to reduce an act of the heart to a political issue, but if Legolas truly wished to wed Elenath, then no mistakes could be made from now on.

"Havo-dad, ion-nîn, and stop that pacing. You shall wear out the carpet if you continue thus."

Legolas obediently dropped into his chair but his thoughts were not as easily put to rest.

How would Elenath react? What if she did not wish to wed him? True, she had spoken of her love for him, yet he was uncertain whether she was willing to commit to him after only such a short while.

Drumming his fingers nervously against his thigh he sat back and drew a deep breath.

All that he could now do was wait. And hope.

* * *

"Not this time, Peredhel, this victory is mine!" Glorfindel grinned, his cobalt eyes flashing in the bright sunlight.

Elrond snorted. "I would say not." His gaze met that of the Vanya. "Others might believe you all-knowing, but you cannot fool me, old friend." The Lord of Imladris laughed and moved an ebony figure on the chequered board that rested on the small table between them. "Check mate."

The golden haired Vanya studied the remaining figurines intently. Damn the Noldor, the Son of Eärendil had truly beaten him.

Nudging the ivory king to topple him Glorfindel shook his head.

"Touché! Now would you perhaps grant me a revenge?"

"Why certainly." Elrond smiled sweetly and began setting up the board again.

Both elven lords looked up as Raniean approached them, followed by Elenath who was desperately trying to wipe dust from her dress and face.

"My lords." Raniean bowed formally. "Forgive my interruption but his Majesty requests your presence. You Lord Glorfindel and you too Lord Elrond."

The Vanya raised an eyebrow, letting his gaze travel from the Noldorin Elf Lord, to the young Captain to his daughter and back.

Elenath looked at him with wide eyes and a slight shrug of her shoulders, then busied herself with re-braiding her hair that had come undone while cleaning the library.

She had not been able to coax any information out of Raniean and she almost believed that his claim of not knowing the reason for the King's summons.

Finally Glorfindel and Elrond rose from the wooden benches they had been sitting on and followed the Captain back towards the palace.

"If there is aught I should know before our audience with the King you had better tell me," Glorfindel whispered as he strode up behind his daughter.

Elenath arched an elegant eyebrow. "Do you trust me so little, adar-nîn? Had I gotten myself into any more trouble you would certainly be the first to know. But rest assured: whatever the King requests has naught to do with the fell deeds of your kin."

Behind them Elrond's breath hitched slightly as he tried to suppress a laugh, which earned him an evil glare from the Vanya.

They reached the King's study a few minutes later, where Raniean left them after announcing them.

"Please mellyn-nîn, come in and take a seat." Thranduil rounded his desk and gestured towards a seating-arrangement at the far side of the room where Legolas already stood waiting.

He held Elenath's gaze for a few heartbeats but looked away as Glorfindel strode past her, a slight look of surprise on his face when he saw the Prince.

Elrond, Glorfindel and Thranduil took their seats in large wing-backed chairs while Legolas and Elenath were forced to sit side by side on a sofa, causing both of them to look distinctly uncomfortable under the elder elves' gazes.

"Thranduil, pray tell, what is the reason for this meeting?" Glorfindel was the first to speak up when Thranduil only stared at the younglings.

Looking at the Vanyarin Lord the Silvan King's face grew neutral, just as that of any other skilled politician.

"It seems that it is my duty to inform you…" The rest of the King's sentence was lost when Legolas stood and bowed before Glorfindel.

"My Lord, with your permission I would like to ask for the hand of your daughter in marriage." The Prince regarded the elf before him and felt a slight twinge of dread rising in his chest.

Though he had known Glorfindel for most of his life, at that very moment Legolas remembered all the tales he had ever heard of the skill and valour of the Vanya.

He had been born during the Age of the Trees in Valinor and had crossed the Grinding Ice with Fingolfin's host of Noldor.

In Gondolin he had been amongst those most trusted by the King and as the hidden city fell, he had forsaken his own life to save Idril and Tuor and their young son, Eärendil.

His brave fight against a Balrog of Morgoth was even now the subject of many a song yet it was this fight that had in the end cost not only the life of the monster but also that of golden-haired Lord.

His fëa had fled to the Halls of Mandos and had dwelled there for an indefinite amount of time before Manwë had agreed to set him free, but the Vala had bestowed a duty upon the Vanya that only he knew of.

He had been re-embodied and awoken on the shores of Mithlond, where Círdan the Shipwright and Ereinion Gil-Galad, High King of the Noldor had found him.

From that time on he had been a loyal servant first to the King and then to his herald, Lord Elrond of Rivendell to whom he had also become a close friend.

Asking such an elf for the hand of his only daughter was quite nerve-wracking.

Legolas dared not look at his beloved for fear of seeing rejection in her eyes, so his gaze remained riveted on the unmoving lord before him.

When Glorfindel finally spoke his voice was calm yet an odd light shone in the depths of his fathomless eyes.

"That is a noble request indeed, young Prince, but what say you, Elenath?"

The young elleth stared first at her father then at Legolas.

Marriage? That was something she had not even contemplated yet, though being faced with the choice now, her heart rejoiced.

"I wish to accept the Prince's proposal."

She laughed out in delight when Legolas spun towards her and dropped to his knees, catching her face between his hands.

In his eyes shone a love so pure and deep she wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

"You wish to become my wife, meleth-nîn?" Legolas smiled when she only nodded, emotions too numerous to count warring within her.

Somehow in that moment the sun seemed to shine a little brighter.

"Very well." Thranduil smiled at his son's happiness and noted with a some relief that Glorfindel seemed equally content. "I wish you both to understand what your union will mean for our people. As you might well be aware, your marriage will be the forging of an unbreakable bond between the Noldor and the Sindar. Thus has rarely been done before, especially in the royal houses."

Both Legolas and Elenath nodded gravely.

Tough Thranduil called himself King of the Silvan Elves it was no secret that he was actually the last King of the Sindar. Born and raised in Doriath in the house of Thingol he was the last of that esteemed bloodline, save for his son.

Elenath, though half Vanya, was descended from none other than Ereinion Gil-Galad himself, for her mother Merilien had been the High King's only daughter.

After her death Elenath had been crowned High Queen, but as she had been merely a child the coronation had been a secretive affair, for it had been decided that her existence too should be kept from the Dark Lord of Mordor.

Gil-Galad and Elendil had forged the Last Alliance and many of the Elvenking's trusted subjects had been certain that Sauron would hunt not only the human's descendants, but those of the elf too.

Thus it was that the elves of Mithlond turned to Círdan the Shipwright for council, unaware that he kept the throne of the Noldor safe until it would be reclaimed by it's rightful monarch.

"Lord Elrond," Thranduil spoke again, addressing the Lord of Imladris by his formal title, "you have borne witness to this betrothal. Will you do so also when the bond between these young ones is legalised before the people of the Noldor and the Silvan realms?"

The dark-haired elf nodded. "Aye, that I will. I am most honoured to be entrusted with this task." A broad smile lit up his face as the tension finally seemed to dissipate.

"What is so amusing, Peredhel?" Glorfindel asked over the shoulder of his daughter, whom he was currently embracing.

"Well,…" Elrond grinned, mischief sparkling in his eyes. "I was just recalling your own betrothal. I daresay it was quite different from this one."

A faint redness crept over the fair-haired lord's high cheekbones and tinged the pointed tips of his leaf-shaped ears.

"Do you not intend to entertain us with that story" Thranduil smiled wickedly at the Vanya's discomfort.

Elenath nodded encouragingly, she too wished to know what had transpired that caused her father to blush like an elfling.

"Very well." Casting Elrond a deadly glare Glorfindel settled more comfortably into his chair - not an easy task under the given circumstances - and steepled his fingers before him.

"The events Lord Elrond has referred to happened in Mithlond many millennia ago. I had given my heart to Ereinion's daughter Merilien and it was time to confront her father." He smiled wistfully. "A most frightening moment, I can assure you."

_

* * *

_

_Mithlond, 2506 S.A.:_

_"What do you mean "love"" Ereinion Gil-Galad, High King of the Noldor, paced the floor of his office, all the while working hard to keep his voice from rising._

_His daughter Merilien had just confronted him with the fact that she believed to have fallen in love with his advisor Glorfindel, and elf many millennia her senior and most definitely not a match he would have chosen for her._

_"You cannot possibly love him, iell-nîn. You are but a child and know not of what you speak."_

_"ADA" Merilien protested angrily. "I am no longer an elfling. You cannot treat me thus. And I am very aware of what I speak!"_

_The King snorted in a most unfitting manner and cast a steely glance at the golden-haired Vanya who stood behind his daughter, his hands resting lightly on her shoulders._

_He had known Glorfindel for many centuries and trusted him as he only trusted few elves. They were friends and had spent many a time together, whether in Lindon or abroad, but the Vanya had most definitely gone too far now!_

_Ereinion treasured his daughter, she was the pride of his heart and for her he would gladly lay down his life, therefore he could barely tolerate the thought of losing her to another man._

_Oh, he prided himself in being a fair and just King, a good father and husband and a loyal friend, but this was beyond what he was willing to endure at the moment._

_"Merilien, meleth-nîn!" He looked at his daughter and his heart clenched. _

_She was the picture of perfection, so beautiful was she. _

_Certainly even the legendary beauty of Lúthien Tinúviel paled in comparison to his daughter with her shining chestnut-coloured hair and vibrant blue eyes._

_Never had he denied her anything. Would he be able to do so now?_

_Desperation was written all over his handsome face as he gazed at his former herald, who stood motionless and silent by the door, watching the scene before him unfold._

_The younger elf had become somewhat of a son to the King in the years he had spent together, first at the Mouths of Sirion and then in Lindon._

_Elrond's face remained deceptively impassive but Ereinion was sure he had seen a strange glint in the eyes of the Son of Eärendil._

_Was he perchance being unreasonable? Could Merilien be right?_

_Turning once more towards his daughter and Glorfindel he noticed for the first time the looks both of them exchanged and sighed._

_"Merilien, are you aware of what you are letting yourself in on? A betrothal with Lord Glorfindel could prove to be more complicated than you could ever fathom." He held up his hand as she started to retort. "I am not saying you may not marry him, but I had rather hoped one of the younger nobles of Lindon might catch your eye." The High King cast a steely, accusing glance towards the fair-haired lord._

_"I know, ada." Merilien stepped towards him and eased the frown from his face with the tip of her fingers, much like her mother was wont to do. "Do you think I failed to notice your attempts at matchmaking? You meant well, but I love Glorfindel, ada-nîn."_

_Shaking his head in amusement and sending long black hair sliding over his shoulders Ereinion regarded his daughter for a while. _

_Finally, with a heavy sigh he answered: "Very well, I shall consent to this betrothal."_

_He glanced at Glorfindel who bowed his head respectfully, yet not quite able to hide a triumphant grin._

_"Oh, ada, thank you!" Merilien flung herself at him and would have surely sent them both crashing against his desk if he had not had many centuries of experience in catching his whirlwind daughter._

_"Lord Elrond…" Ereinion gasped, when he finally managed to loosen Merilien's grip. "Will you stand witness to this betrothal?"_

_

* * *

_

"So King Ereinion was not pleased when you asked for the hand of his daughter?" Legolas asked surprised.

Somehow he could hardly fathom anybody denying the mighty Balrog-slayer anything.

Glorfindel laughed. "Aye, but thankfully Merilien was a very persuasive person. I was petrified on that day, standing before the King not as a soldier but as an elf requesting something so personal." The admission raised some eyebrows throughout the room, only Elrond seemed unperturbed. Possibly because he had been there on that day.

"After your wedding, did daeradar ever mention his dislike of your union again?" Elenath was just as intrigued by the tale as Legolas had been.

Again the Vanya laughed. "Nay, meleth-nîn, your daeradar was a good man. Though he barked quite a lot he rarely ever bit." He gently stroked back a lock of his daughter's raven hair. "He was not for naught one of the greatest Kings of legend and your naneth was his only child. I would have been surprised had he reacted any differently."

Elenath arched an eyebrow, very much in the manner of her father. "Then does your easy consent mean you love me naught?" Laughter twinkled in the depths of her eyes as Glorfindel mirrored her expression.

Laughing, Legolas pulled his betrothed to her feet ere the Vanya decided to give him a taste of what his own betrothal had been like.

"My lords, " the Prince bowed respectfully before the elders, "may we have your leave to inform our friends and relatives of this joyous event?"

Thranduil smiled. "Perhaps you could wait with spreading news of your betrothal until the banquet tonight. It is after all an official event and should be treated appropriately."

The Prince and High Queen exchanged pained glances but nodded obediently.

"Very well." Thranduil kissed both young elves on the cheeks. "Then you may go now."

Clearly dismissed Legolas and Elenath left the study, closing the door on the three Eldar.

"Now _that_ was rather unexpected." Elrond commented dryly.

"Unexpected?" Glorfindel snorted. "Don't tell me you hadn't noticed their infatuation for one another."

"You knew they were in love!" Thranduil stared at the Vanya in disbelief. "And here I was torturing myself because I wanted Legolas to chose a wife from the ellith present at the festival.

Glorfindel laughed out loud. "Lover's looks over dinner that were barely concealed? My friend, how could I _not_ notice. I may have visited Mandos' halls, but I am not dead yet."

Both Elrond and Thranduil chuckled in disbelief at that comment.

It was rare for the warrior to talk about his death and the time he spent in the Halls of Waiting, therefore it was all the more hilarious to hear him talk about it so nonchalantly.

"There is a lot we need to talk about," Thranduil sighed, ringing for a servant to bring some wine. "After all, I wager there will be many who are not as easily convinced as we."

* * *

Later that evening all the noble elves of the four realms had gathered once more in Mirkwood's great banquet hall to celebrate the official end of another Solstice Festival.

Long tables draped in fine linen and decorated with fragrant blooms stood in the shape of a U, the King's table forming the centre part.

"Where in the name of the Valar _are_ they!" Elladan sighed, resisting the urge to play with his cutlery. He was hungry and he had the growing suspicion that his father was keeping something important from him, but as he glanced towards the Eldar he noticed that Lord Elrond was deep in conversation with one of the silver-haired elves from Lothlórien.

"Stop whining!" Elrohir turned his attention from Trelan to his brother, nudging the elder twin in the ribs.

"DARO SI!" The sharp command came from Lord Elrond who had not missed the first signs of a beginning fight and now regarded his sons with a grim expression, an eyebrow raised in silent warning.

Before the twins could reply, the murmur of voices ceased and chairs were pushed over wooden floors as the assembled got to their feet in respect of King Thranduil and Prince Legolas who now entered the room, followed by Glorfindel and a ravishing, yet distinctly nervous looking Elenath.

As everybody was watching the four elves cross the room Elrohir leaned closer to Estel.

"What's going on? Their entrance looks terribly formal."

"I have no idea." The Dúnadan shrugged and tried to catch Legolas' eye, but the Prince seemed to be avoiding him by keeping his gaze fastened straight ahead.

When they reached their seats the King looked at the elves that had assembled beneath his roof and smiled.

"Mellyn-nîn, it is with great regret that we are already celebrating the last day of the Summer Solstice Festival."

Many elves nodded in response.

"The past week has been…adventurous…to say the least." The King smiled as many chuckled. "But let us not part on a melancholy note, for another year shall pass ere we notice and I can assure you that the festival next year will be grander and I daresay longer than this one."

Murmurs rose among the elves as they asked themselves what might prompt the King to outdo himself, especially since it was not customary to celebrate every year.

"It is with great joy that I may invite you to celebrate the betrothal of my son Legolas to Elenath, Daughter of Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower."

"What!" Elladan, Elrohir, Estel, Raniean and Trelan echoed almost simultaneously as the crowd cheered.

"Did you hear that!" Elladan looked at his twin.

"Of course I did, you nift. I'm not deaf!" Elrohir retorted and shook his head.

"Ada, did you know of this?" Estel turned to face Lord Elrond, who together with the rest of the assembled elves applauded the young couple.

Elrond's blue eyes twinkled merrily as he surveyed his youngest son. "Aye, but only since this afternoon."

"And you didn't tell us?" Estel asked, sounding almost a little hurt at the fact that his beloved father had kept such a secret from him and his brothers.

Noticing his son's disappointment the elf laid a hand on the Dúnadan's shoulder.

"Estel, the King and Glorfindel asked me to stand witness to the betrothal and it was agreed that it would be made public tonight. Both Elenath and Legolas are of royal descent, their marriage will not merely be an act of love but also of politics. Whether they like it or not." Elrond sighed, almost feeling sorry for the young elves who were now graciously accepting good wishes from the people.

"That is why they were not free to tell you immediately, as was their wish."

Estel nodded, albeit somewhat hesitantly.

He understood what his father was telling him, but Legolas was his best friend and he had somehow expected that he would perhaps rank above the people of Mirkwood.

But then again jealousy was not usually a trait that attributed to him and he wouldn't start embracing it now.

Casting all glum thoughts aside he pushed through the crowd that had gathered around the Prince and his future wife and grinned brightly as Legolas' eyes met his.

"Congratulations, mellyn-nîn! This is truly a most pleasant surprise!" Estel laughed as he saw the look of relief that crossed his friends faces and thumped the Prince's back heartily.

"Hannon-le. I am sorry for not telling you sooner, but the King insisted on announcing the news formally." Legolas rolled his eyes, causing Estel to laugh harder.

"Fathers!" The friends echoed in unison, causing a few heads to turn and curious gazes to linger upon them.

"Speaking of which.." Estel leaned closer to the Prince. "What did Glorfindel say? I've ever known him to be fiercely protective of Elenath, most young elves in Imladris are loath to court her for fear of the Balrog-slayer."

Silently Legolas thanked the Valar that he had not been aware of this particular fact earlier. His own reservations had cost him enough nerves. Knowing what Estel had just conveyed to him would have probably made him a bumbling idiot in front of the Vanya.

"Luckily Elenath managed to convince Lord Glorfindel not to kill me ere he heard what we had to say." Legolas winked at Estel before the Prince was once again required to shake even more hands.

"Smile, my love," Elenath whispered close to his ear, stirring a few strands of hair that tickled against his neck, "else the people will believe that our union was forced and not one of love."

Legolas leaned in closer and stole a small kiss from her lips before he plastered on a brilliant smile. "For you I shall do anything. But what will you do for me?" Tough he sounded perfectly innocent, the mischievous glint in his eyes did not escape Elenath, who blushed furiously.

He took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly as even more elves lined up to congratulate them.

Somehow, the Prince rightfully feared, this was going to be a very long evening.

TBC…

* * *

Elvish translations:

Havo-dad – sit down

Mellyn-nîn – my friends

Daeradar – grandfather

Naneth – mother

Ellith pl. – elf maidens

Daro si! – stop now!


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER 5 **

On last evening of the Solstice, King Thranduil had invited all elves to attend the official betrothal on Midsummer's Day the following year.

Confronted by the prospect of having to wait a year until celebrating their betrothal, and thus far it had not yet been decided when the actual wedding would take place, Legolas and Tinu had decided on an own course of action.

They had left the King's halls at daybreak and had ridden deep into the woods, where the oldest trees of Mirkwood grew.

In fact, so legend told, the glade they were now standing in, was the very heart of Eryn Lasgalen, as the Great Greenwood had once been called.

An aura of peace seemed to permeate from the very earth and the evil that slowly crept over the woods from the south had not yet tainted it's sanctity.

Elves needed no pomp or ceremony to wed, all they needed was for nature to be their witness and so it happened that Queen Elenath of the Noldor and Prince Legolas of Mirkwood stood beneath the boughs of an ancient oak-tree and reverently exchanged sacred words of love and trust.

The voices of the trees rejoiced in the minds of the elves, celebrating the union they had just watched evolve. They knew it was right, they felt the love the two beings held for each other and rewarded them by promising to treasure forever in their souls what they had just seen and heard.

Legolas' face was aglow with love as he slipped a golden ring of interwoven leaves on the ring finger of Elenath's left hand. The ring had once been a gift to his mother by King Thranduil and when she had passed into the West she had bestowed the gift upon her son, bidding him give it to the one he truly loved. Yet the ring was not only a symbol of love that was passed on, but also a symbol of the Royal House of Mirkwood.

Elenath in exchange placed a mithril chain around Legolas' neck and upon this chain hung a pendant - made of mithril threads that were as fine as silk and twisted into the shape of a star in who's centre sat a jewel of the deepest blue - symbolising the Royal House of Fingolfin.

The chain and pendant had passed to her as an heirloom on the day of her coronation and she had ever treasured it close to her own heart, but now was the time to pass it on. She was certain that none of her forefathers would object.

After this exchange of tokens of their love, they knelt before the great oak, looking at one another and finally declaring the binding words:

"Le meluvan úne ar alye lúmessen tenna nurucilie." I will love you for better and for worse, until death do us part.

The words were spoken in the ancient tongue so important were they, never to be said lightly, for it seemed that by speaking them a bond was forged between two hearts that could ne'er be undone.

* * *

After the ceremony Legolas took Elenath's hand and led her through the forest towards a small tributary of the Forest River.

Visions of Elenath wearing naught but droplets of water glistening in the sun haunted Legolas' dreams ever since he had stumbled into the glade the day after Lord Thurin's famous swordfight.

"Bain Tinu-nîn, my beautiful little star." Legolas smiled, gently kissing his newlywed wife.

Elenath sighed contentedly and ran her fingers through his silky golden hair, freeing it of it's braids so it fell in a mass of molten sunlight across his shoulders.

"Hervenn-nîn…" Her words trailed off as his kisses deepened, while his fingers nimbly undid the lacing of her dress.

Taking queue, Elenath slowly began undoing the catches of his tunic, ever mindful should he tense under her gentle hands.

For all the love and trust Legolas placed upon his wife, some things – dark memories of times long past – were not quite as easily forgotten.

Yet Legolas had cast aside all glum thoughts and fears and relished her cool hands on his heated skin, the way she trailed her fingertips over the muscles of his abdomen, down to the waistband of his leggings.

Her eyes were locked on his, searching, probing, revealing.

Love burned in the cobalt-depths of the young queen's eyes, and a longing so deep and intense it took his breath away.

They had both disposed of their clothing and he led her into the cool waters of the tributary.

The peaks of her breasts were hard and rosy against his chest and he bent down his head, wishing only to taste their sweetness.

Elenath's knees buckled as Legolas gently, softly sucked her nipple, teasing the tender flesh with the rough velvet of his tongue.

Holding her tight the elf prince lowered them both into the water, which wasn't very deep so close to the riverbank, and resumed his exploration of her body with his mouth.

The gentle ministrations caused Elenath's breathing to hitch as his hand plunged beneath the surface of the water, tempting her most intimately.

Never had she been touched thus and the sensation made her entire body tingle.

Legolas smiled as her lips parted and her nails dug into his shoulders, her body tensing under his touch.

The eddies of the small stream caressed their bodies and wove their hair together into a mass of obsidian and gold.

Slowly they began moving in an ancient, primitive rhythm, the Prince's lean, muscular body covering Elenath's slighter form, his lips alternating between her luscious mouth and her soft breasts.

The young queen, though nearly mindless with ecstasy, never forgot that the act of lovemaking was one of giving and taking alike, so her hand slipped beneath the water-line and began tempting and taunting Legolas with the same tenacity that he was exercising on her.

Legolas growled deep in his throat and gazed into Elenath's eyes, his own blazing with an age-old desire. A wicked smile played around his lips as he sought out hers, whispering against them:

"Ai, Eru! Hervess-nîn, you are quite skilled in this game. Now let me demonstrate _my_ skills…"

This time it was not his hand Elenath felt against her and as a delicious fire spread through her entire body her breath quickened into rapid gasps.

Any response she would have uttered to her husband's taunting died on her lips as all her thoughts were washed away with the current of the stream, leaving her trapped in a world of the most remarkable sensations she had ever witnessed.

"Are you ready?" Legolas' eyes were glassy as he barely managed to utter the words, words for which Elenath had no other response than pressing closer to him.

As gently as possible their bodies joined together, hers tensing when the barrier of her virginity fell beneath a thrust of the Prince's hips. From that point on all else became obsolete, all that counted was this one precious moment in time.

Within minutes both elves were breathing hard and rapidly as not only their bodies were joined together, but also their souls, spiralling their thoughts outwards and upwards, to be caught by the wind and dancing with the stars.

* * *

They returned to the King's halls well after nightfall and were thus greeted by a very disgruntled Balrog-slayer and a likewise angry King, who both stood on the front steps of the palace after being alerted by the guards.

"Eru, this looks bad," Elenath muttered under her breath, evoking a snort from Legolas, who dismounted beside her.

Neither Thranduil nor Glorfindel had moved from where they stood and looked coldly at the younger elves that now bowed respectfully before them.

"Legolas, pray tell, what business called you _and_ Elenath away _before_ daybreak and had you return _after_ nightfall, when you very well know how dangerous these woods have become?" Thranduil spoke up, his eyes flashing.

The Prince took a step forward. "Adar, if I might explain…" His words were cut off by a gesture from the King.

"Yes, you will explain. Come, we shall talk in my study." Thranduil nodded to Glorfindel and in a swirl of deep green robes disappeared into the palace, followed by Legolas, who cast a wary glance back at Elenath before disappearing from her sight.

"You and I shall also talk, Elenath." Glorfindel motioned her to follow him, but his path led down into the gardens.

For a while they walked side by side, silence spreading uncomfortably between them as Elenath grew ever more nervous.

She knew it would never do to talk first, Glorfindel was clearly angry with her, thus it was best to let him utter whatever he wished to tell her first.

Finally they stopped at the fountain, though on this night there was little light and no music filtering down from the palace, as most guests had already departed.

Glorfindel regarded his daughter in the silvery light of the moon, trying to hold on to the fear and anger he had felt, when she had so thoughtlessly disappeared that morning, thinking not even of taking a guard with her at least.

Unfortunately he could never hold a grudge against her very long, she was his Tinu after all.

"Would you perhaps like to tell me where you went today? What would two elves possibly hope to achieve by sneaking out of the palace at daybreak? And not returning until well after nightfall? There is naught…" Glorfindel stopped his questioning when the answer struck him as surely as a blow to the head.

His fiery gaze snapped towards his daughter as realization struck him. And if that hadn't been enough, then the guilt burning in her eyes would have been.

"Ai, Valar! Tinu, what have you done!" Studying her intently he suddenly noticed the radiance emanating from within her, brightening the bluish light that shone from within all firstborn.

Avoiding looking at her father Elenath flinched slightly as Glorfindel regarded her.

"Ada, I can explain…" Her voice was soft, barely audible above the sounds of the woodland surrounding them.

Glorfindel sighed and sank down at the edge of the fountain. "Please, do."

While Elenath informed an ever more flabbergasted Glorfindel of the events that had taken place earlier – or at least of the events she deemed safe to relay to him – King Thranduil was faring no better.

"Exchanged vows? What do you mean, you _exchanged_ _vows_?" The King stared at his son in disbelief. "Legolas!"

The Prince at least had the decency to look ashamed as his father stared at him, shock, anger and hurt evident in the deep blue gaze.

"Goheno-nîn, adar." Legolas stood before his father, head held high, ready to defend his actions. "I did not mean to act against your wishes, nor did I ever wish to offend you, but please understand that Tinu and I wanted only to be joined as husband and wife. Without much fuss and most certainly without pomp."

He held little love for any acts of ceremony, even though he knew that as the heir-apparent he would never be able to evade them completely.

"Joined…" Thranduil shook his head. "You spoke the vows, I assume?"

"Aye." Legolas nodded.

The King stepped closer to his son, noticing the tension in the stance of his proud shoulders. "I will not say that what you did was right, for as the Prince of Mirkwood you have not only yourself to think about but also the people in your realm. They love you and wish to partake in the important matters of your life, such as taking a wife."

He took another step closer, placing one hand on the Prince's shoulder.

"As your King I fully understand your wishes and desires, but as your father I am somewhat disappointed, for I had hoped to bear witness when you finally became wed." He smiled at his son, placing a kiss on his forehead.

"Alas, it has been done." With a wicked glint in his eye the King smiled at his son. "Someday soon you shall be _officially_ wed, with all the pomp and circumstance Glorfindel and I deem adequate."

Legolas nodded, although it was obvious that he was working hard at repressing a heartfelt sigh.

"Of course, ada. As you wish."

"Wonderful!" Thranduil clapped his son on the shoulder, steering him out of the study. "I believe a celebration just for the family is in order?" He winked at Raniean and Trelan, who fell in step behind them, escorting Mirkwood's royalty through the dimly lit palace hallways.

And so it happened that the kingdoms of Mirkwood and Lindon were united, though it was kept a closely guarded secret for many decades.

Though the wise had foreseen that the fate of Middle-earth lay in the hands of Men, and especially in the hands of one very young Dúnadan, they knew that the Elves would have a part to play too. But that, dear reader, is an entirely different story.

I meth. The end.

* * *

Elvish translations:

Hervenn-nîn – my husband

Hervess-nîn – my wife

Goheno-nîn – forgive me


End file.
